


A Quick Job

by TheMarbleNest



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Interspecies Sex, Size Difference, Violent Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarbleNest/pseuds/TheMarbleNest
Summary: Tension needs to get relieved somehow.
Relationships: Original Human Character(s)/Original Turian Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	A Quick Job

His voice poured over her before she could even get clear of the crowd.

“Having fun?” came the cocksure, flanging intonation. April rolled her eyes, grey-lavender paled to a stark white amid the hallway lights as she made a beeline for the nearest empty room. “Looked like you were having fun. Oh yeah, got those cameras hacked,” he continued on, prompting her to glance up at the last one at the end of the hall. Judging by the sadistic cackling on the other end of the communicator, he saw the grimace she’d offered before dipping into the room.

“I feel a need to remind you, this isn’t a game,” she warned, her voice drawn low and dangerous. More laughter spilled against her ear, the turian’s subvocals almost managing to tickle her nerves. 

“Oh I know, babe. But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy - isn’t that one of your human sayings?” 

The woman glanced out the parted blinds, her body kept in the shadows. She couldn’t see him, out there in the rainy gloom - but she knew he was. Waiting, and now watching with a keener eye than before. The cameras would help, of course; a more intimate view of the floor’s interior would make pinpointing their target all the easier, and bring an end to this dangerous infiltration. But a part of her couldn’t help the way pale skin began to crawl, senses heightened to the point of becoming taut wires ready to snap. She hated the thought of him watching her. Hated having him directly at her ear, too, but that had been a necessity for a job like this. April didn’t like the way her pulse quickened, in that sickening mixture of fright and anticipation. 

“Just focus on what we’re here for, imbecile,” she hissed in response at last. A low, tantalizing growl vibrated across the connection. She could almost feel him against her neck. 

“I am, don't you worry,” he purred. The sound had her stomach doing uncomfortable flips, bearing with it further nausea. “Just keep smoothing into their little club, babe. Draw him out, and I’ll take care of everything else. Then I’ll buy you a few drinks to celebrate. How’s that sound?”

“I don’t need to be bribed in order to complete a job, unlike certain others.”

“Getting a little spicy there, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” came the sharp retort.

Again, that dangerous growl against her ear. His words were sharp and full of promise - no idle threats. “I think I’ll call you whatever I want. Especially once I’ve got you bent over a table, after we’re done here.”

She could only offer a sound of disgust, distaste, denial. None of which served to lessen the victorious way he seemed to laugh at her expense, subvocals thrumming with something altogether feral and terrifying. Another glance out the blinds, and she sharply stepped away from the windows entirely. April paced around in the darkest part of the study - for that was what it seemed to be, nothing but a massive desk and a comfortable chair tucked underneath. No cameras, though, at least none she could spot in the corners. For the moment, she was safe from her turian partner’s prying gaze. The line was silent for a few minutes, leaving her to go over the plan in her head once more; drink, talk, and compliment her way through this private party until the man of the hour - a director of sales - made an appearance. If she could get him in private, all the better. 

It wasn’t going to be difficult. From all their intel, he had a much darker, more sordid personal life than the pristine image shown to the public. Slaves bought from Batarian markets in the Terminus Systems; a penchant for violence and hard liquor; shady deals with smugglers and pirates. Embezzling, though, was what finally landed a target on his back. 

Wine and women was his weakness, and April was begrudgingly going to have to exploit that. 

“East side, location does not matter. Correct?” she finally asked, going over the details one last time. He didn’t respond with more than a rumbling affirmation, but she was fine with that. “Preferably alone.”

“Just don’t let him get too handsy, or I may not make it a clean kill,” her partner teased, though his subharmonics sang with something she could only describe as threatening. 

April sighed. “As if I’d give him the chance. Just make it quick, and quiet.”

“The quiet part’s up to you, babe. Open a window and there won’t be any noise.”

“I know that,” she bit back, pinching the bridge of her nose. Black-painted nails contrasted heavily to the woman’s otherwise porcelain skin, smooth and pristine just as the tight-fitting black cocktail dress she wore. Idly, her hand ran down the velvet and smoothed a few wrinkles across her hip; unnecessary, a distraction from the vibrations against her ear. She hated them, hated _him_.

And all he could do was make it worse. Another purr, violent and dangerous; as if he knew just how his flanging vocals could make her senses react, the way nerve endings tickled and buzzed. How close it could be to his mouth plates roaming over her neck. “Then get going, little party girl. Let’s get this done before I start getting antsy.” He chuckled. “Already got my plates parting for you, babe.”

The communication ended as she answered with only another disgusted exhale. She didn’t even give him time to laugh before cutting it off herself. 

More than anything, April hated the involuntary tingling across her body at his words.

Slipping from the study, pointedly ignoring the camera, she returned to the living area - where the party was in full swing. Women in low-cut dresses or all-too-miniature skirts, eyes sparkling with intoxication and a vibrancy only able to be found in those who delighted in this sort of high life. Men, too, surrounded them all like vultures. Smart tuxedos and business casual could do little to hide the red cheeks and trailing eyes; whether human or turian, it all seemed the same. Asari flitted in and out of conversations like the ethereal beings they so prided themselves on encompassing, shared chaste and fluttering kisses with the human girls painted in distracting and fashionable makeup. 

April felt out of place, a black hole amid a sparkling galaxy she had no interest in. 

But that didn’t stop her from slipping into conversation once more, masking herself all too easily as just another socialite come to revel and rave on the director’s dime. Despite lids heavy with void-black shadow, long lashes fluttered prettily and inviting, tempting the attentions of men and women alike as they circled around her to share in her presence. A forced laugh here, girlish and sweet; a brush of fingertips there, delicate and fleeting but ever so tantalizing. She barely listened to the buzz of voices around her. They all blurred together, and her answers to questions came automatically, practiced and perfected as though she’d been part of this crowd all her life. Lies and deceit were putty to be shaped by her expert hands. She feigned drinking the cocktails offered, never allowing alcohol to pass her lips - and none took note of this, for she played the tipsy role quite well. On and on it went, until at last there came cheers and clapping when the director finally made his appearance. And as with all the others, she turned her gaze upon him like a woman enraptured.

It was all too easy. 

An hour passed, and soon he was tugging at her arm, batting off conversation with some hopeful investors and excusing the both of them as nonchalantly as possible. April stalked behind him through the hall, noting the look of hunger he gave her. Suggesting, ever so gently, the bedroom on the east side. And they found it to be perfectly empty, making her job less complicated. A little conversation to distract him, an innocent need expressed to open up the window and allow the cool night air in to wash over her flushed face - though, of course, she retained an unblemished pallor beneath the shadows. And then he stalked towards her like a cat, hands finding their way to her hips unprompted. 

She felt the ice creep over her. That instinctive fear, the quickened pulse which sickened her so desperately and locked her muscles, stole her ability to move more than a few inches to the left. 

Facing one another, parallel to the open window. The perfect opening, and the fool was too desperate to care. Her efforts were rewarded when, just as she pushed his hands away, the human’s skull ruptured - brain matter and blood spraying across the walls and floor. She just barely managed to miss getting painted in evidence. It was quick and quiet, just as she’d asked. Only a wet squelch, a small crack of bone, and the thump of a body onto the floor. Nothing that would be heard above the trashy club music playing across the living space. 

Her retching wouldn’t be, either.

Afterwards, she was undisturbed as she slipped from the suite and made her way toward the elevator, riding it down in blissful and maddening silence. Nothing but the downpour outside could be heard for the time it took her to reach the ground floor of the high-rise and exit into the dreary weather, umbrella already in hand. Down city streets she walked, slipping into an alley. Far away from the scene waiting to be found in that darkened bedroom. But only growing closer to the shadow that awaited her return.

And he bore down on her before she could even react; a black mass which swooped in from the darkness and grabbed her arm, forcing the umbrella to fall and pushing her against the slick wall with a growl. April was given no chance to speak, before his mouth plates were pressed to her lips and his free hand was grasping her waist - hard enough for uncovered talons to threaten fabric and skin alike. He pushed her up, and up, and up. Her feet dangled helplessly above the ground, until he forced himself between her thighs and prompted her to wrap her legs around his waist. 

Parting long enough from her, April was given a glimpse of the turian. Black hide, black cartilage painted with stark white colony markings, and eyes the color of blood. Bright, nearly glowing in the shadows.

And hungry. Always so hungry. 

“Nice work,” he growled against her skin, ghosting over her neck - for real, this time. “How about we skip the drinks and go straight to the reward?”

A sharp gasp left her, unbidden. His under armor could barely contain the tent pressing hard against her, nor could her throat stop the whine from escaping as he pushed their bodies together. She hated it. Hated the noises he’d bring out of her, the way her nerves ignited, how her own body felt like it was betraying her. Sharp, needle-like teeth pressed dangerously against her exposed skin, and another animalistic groan resounded from both his larynx. 

“Fuck, I want to ruin you.” 

“Can we not at least.. w-wait unti-” her protests were cut short, pain shooting across her system as he bit down into the malleable flesh. She could feel the blood pooling, burning; smell the iron in the air, just barely. He growled again, vibrations travelling from where they were joined - all the way down to her core. She could only whimper at the feeling, and at the wound he’d caused. The way he lapped up her neck and swirled that thick tongue around her ear broke whatever semblance of control she still had, and a shudder ripped through April’s body - pleasure and disgust in equal parts. 

He eclipsed her, there in that alley. A behemoth of a turian, broad-shouldered and wide, and _dangerous_. 

He pushed her dress up about as quick as he pulled the strap down, one hand moving to hold her while the other roughly squeezed her breast. And all the while, he kept pushing his hips against hers - kept taunting her with his erection, seemingly delighting in the way her body jerked towards his motions while she herself turned away. Promises spilled across her skin, each sounding more threatening than the last; gentle words and dirty teasing made terrifying and damning. 

And then the zipper came down, and her eyes were seeing stars. 

Stretched taut over his girth, given no time to adjust or rest as he set a brutal pace. It hurt - oh god, did it hurt. And oh god, did it feel like heaven. 

“How did it feel, his hands on you?” came the dark question, spilling against her throat. He thrust harder, rougher, _possessively_. The skin of her thigh was threatening to break under his talons. “Did it get you hot, huh? Little slut.” Another sharp thrust, one which took everything she had not to scream from. He was pressing all the way in, plates deep, as if determined to break her. Some day, she truly felt like he would. “Wanted to tear his throat out. I’ll tear yours out too, if you ever forget who you belong to.”

April couldn’t say anything. She wouldn’t. That’s what he wanted, those rises, that attempt at fighting back. 

Again, he licked over her throat. Nuzzling her jawline, a motion which could have been gentle were it not for the way he fucked her mercilessly. He didn’t care if she was in pain. And she was, even as pleasure spiked through her system like fireworks. He was making her stomach flip on itself, tighten and contract with every pierce. He was going so deep, strokes short and rapid, harried.

This was nothing but a way to get off for him. She’d become his toy, just like always. 

The ground came up to meet her back so quickly, it knocked the wind from her lungs. Her umbrella lay abandoned just a few feet from them, obscuring the way she’d just come and - perhaps - hiding the two of them from the world outside this dark space between buildings. But he wouldn’t have spared her even if they had an audience. The turian released her arm, hooked a hand along her waist and pushed the other against her leg, forcing them up and against her shoulders. He was going even deeper, forcing into her faster and harder until she thought she’d scream from the pressure. He was unrelenting. 

And it took all she had not to scream, not to cry, not to moan; not to make a sound. Nails scraped against the wet concrete, their bodies thoroughly soaked by now.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care about anything except using her. 

One release wasn’t enough for him, though it shook them both to their cores and threatened to rip April’s voice from her. She knew it was coming even before it rushed into her womb, painted across her inner walls and spilled from their joining; he grew more desperate, a frenzied animal trying to tear into the ground beneath them as he pulled her as close as she could possibly get. There’d be chafing, a horrid and painful rash after he was through. He spared her body no mercy, no thought to the difference in strength or the way she was all too easily bruised compared to his rough hide. And even after his seed was marking her, he kept going. He bit into her other shoulder this time, drawing more blood and nipping along her throat. 

“You’re always so fucking tight,” he growled, a compliment she couldn’t stand. But he sounded so _pleased_. And as if rewarding her for her own body’s natural state, he shifted to a better position and spread her legs far apart. His next thrust had her eyes rolling back, her teeth biting so hard into black-painted lips that a crimson blossom erupted. Two more, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Three more, and he was growing feral. 

Then he tainted her once again. Wave after wave crashing into her, _inside_ her; her back arched, her breasts bounced with the force of his final hit. And finally, it was over. 

He panted like a dog as he slowly - painfully - pulled out. She didn’t watch his cock disappear back behind his plates. She didn’t even look at him, though he kept nuzzling her clavicle and breathing hot air across her stinging wounds. 

The rain spilled across their bodies, ruining her dress and smearing the dark makeup. She felt more than heard him stand and zip himself back up, claws clicking across the ground as he moved away to retrieve his sniper rifle. April just laid there, body hot and laced through with pain. The cold downpour helped only marginally. But it was doing little to wash away his seed from inside her. 

At some point, he’d returned and pulled her underwear back onto her body, pulled her dress down and readjusted her straps. She didn’t move. She didn’t look at him. 

April felt him ghost his mouth plates along her stomach, and still she just lay there until, at last, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. 

“You look like shit, babe,” he quipped, when her eyes finally moved to his own. A mandible was quirked in that threatening, wolfish smile he so often gave. Her gaze remained impassive and cold. It didn’t seem to bother him, but then again, it never had before. When he pulled her up and pressed a kiss to her lips, it disgusted her to find she was returning it - a hand running to lace weakly along the back of his head. 

They shared a few brief moments in that silence. Then, just as easily as if they’d been out for a stroll, he began walking toward the other end of the alley - still with her in his arms. 

“Don’t worry about the cameras. I wiped them as soon as you were out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick short I thought to write, trying to get myself back in the groove of solo writing (and hopefully get myself able to finish my series by doing so). Mass Effect AU versions of some RP characters of mine, who always seem to end up in a parasitic relationship with dubious consent.
> 
> I may write more for these two depending on when I need a break, or want to do some darker stuff.


End file.
